


Run

by gloriousdae



Category: Original Work
Genre: Rooftops, Runaway, Running, Suicidal Thoughts, Unnamed city
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-03-08 02:51:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13448967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gloriousdae/pseuds/gloriousdae
Summary: A poem I wrote simply because I had nothing else to do.





	Run

He knew he shouldn't be there. God he knew with every part of his being that this was a horrid idea. That sitting on the edge of a roof, just humoring the idea of jumping would get him no where.  
He hated it. Hated that he had gotten to the point where he rather jump off this roof than get up and walk away from the edge. He hated how he knew he'd never have it in him to jump. He hated that he knew that he would be alive when the sun rose.  
Honestly, it wasn't that he wanted to die, he was simply unsatisfied. It wasn't that he wanted to die, he just wanted to get away from there.  
Although, he must admit, that he hated cities and he hated small towns, and an average sized town seemed too big too. A city was loud, full of people. A small town was quiet and tight knit. And anywhere of normal size didn't feel like any place he would want to call home.  
The man was only twenty, and he already despised life so much. The man, no, the boy was only twenty and he was so willing to die. Simply didn't want it to be at his own hand, or foot in this case.  
Maybe, he thought, just maybe he could run away again. He'd done it two time already, wishing to be happy and never finding that feeling. Maybe if he ran again, he would find happiness, maybe the third time really was the charm.  
But if he were to run again he would need to pick a destination, and at least the other two times he was running from something. Here, in this city, there was nothing to run from. Nothing worth dying over, nothing worth leaving. There was nothing.  
That's a lie. There was something. There was a soft click of the door behind him shutting, the shuffle of shoes behind him. And he was roughly pulled from his thoughts when someone started talking.  
And he decided, that tonight, just like every other night, he would stay alive. If not for himself, if not for that city, than to have the option to run.  
Because running was easier than living.


End file.
